


Unexpected Questions

by still_lycoris



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Decisions, Drunken Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 04:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5652940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charles asks Hank for sex, Hank has to think about what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Questions

Hank woke up when Charles crawled into bed with him.

It wasn’t the first time that it had happened. It usually happened when Charles was drunk and a bit confused. He’d wriggle in and flop onto Hank, usually either wordlessly or with a murmur that didn’t really mean anything, and promptly got to sleep. At first, Hank had found it rather disturbing but like so many things, he’d become used to it now. He moved up to make room, wincing a little at the smell - it had been a while since Charles had taken a bath. He was getting used to that too though. He just tucked an arm around Charles’s shoulder and closed his eyes, preparing to go back to sleep.

Charles prodded him and Hank opened his eyes, rather puzzled. Charles was peering at him in the dark.

“Can’t sleep,” he said, sounding petulant.

“Yes you can,” Hank said. “Just lie down and close your eyes, you’ll be fine.”

Charles gave a heavy sigh, his breath gusting over Hank’s neck. Hank wondered what was wrong with him. He sat up a little, awkwardly patting Charles’s shoulder.

“Are you all right? Do you need something?”

Charles paused for a moment. Hank wondered how drunk he actually was. Or perhaps there was something else … he knew Charles did take drugs, although he never enquired too much about them. It made him uncomfortable in ways that he didn’t want to explore.

“You’re always so good to me,” Charles said abruptly.

Hank didn’t know how to answer that. Looking after Charles was simply something that _was_ these days. He didn’t really mind. He’d offered, after all and it was just the way things were. And if he were honest, it wasn’t always bad. Knowing that Charles needed him was comforting. It gave him a purpose. It could even be fun sometimes, if he put the sadness of seeing Charles so changed aside.

“I … well … ”

“Would you fuck me if I asked you?”

Hank choked on nothing and doubled up coughing. Charles laughed a little and moved back, giving him room. He didn’t speak again until Hank had spluttered his way into silence.

“Is that a no? It would be very nice, you know. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I … I’m sure you … Charles, why are you asking me this?!”

“I miss sex,” Charles said quite simply. “I’m lonely. You’re here and I like you. Always have.”

Hank wasn’t quite sure what to make of these bald statements. It was all very well for Charles to say that he _liked_ him but Hank was fairly certain that you were supposed to feel a bit more than _like_ for what Charles was talking about. Or rather, perhaps not if what other people had said was true but … but for him and _Charles_ …

It wasn’t that Charles was generally unattractive. In fact, Charles was extremely attractive – not that Hank usually thought about that, not at all, he wasn’t interested. Obviously. He didn’t think about men. At least, he didn’t think he did. He was suddenly feeling extremely confused, possibly because Charles had moved closer again and put his hand on Hank’s chest. When did Charles’s hand become so confusingly warm? He was tracing a finger over Hank’s nipple and the sensation was … startlingly pleasant.

“Hank?”

He probably ought to move away again. Or think of something to say, something … something intelligent, something … he didn’t know what, he didn’t know …

Charles kissed him. His mouth was wet and hot and when he scraped his tongue against Hank’s lip, Hank clutched at him without meaning to. Charles pulled himself onto his lap, straddling him and Hank felt something hard grind against him and it suddenly hit him that if he didn’t stop and think, this was going to happen and he didn’t even know if he wanted it, he didn’t …

“C-charles!”

He managed to push Charles back a little, trying to get his breath back. Charles was staring at him, seemingly just curious about what he was going to say. Hank wished he knew exactly what he _was_ going to say. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, he wanted … he needed time to think …

“Sober,” he blurted out.

“What?”

“I … ask me again when you’re sober. And when you’ve showered or bathed or … or whatever. And then … then we’ll talk about it.”

Charles looked at him for a moment, then nodded his head, as though this was a completely reasonable request. He settled down on Hank’s bed again and curled up, obviously not intending to leave. Hank wished he would. He needed to think properly and having Charles in the bed wasn’t going to help with that at all.

In the end, he just waited until Charles’s breath was deep and even, then quietly slipped out of bed and went to his laboratory. He always went in there if needed to think. It never failed to make him feel a little better about everything.

In this case though, he had a feeling it might take more than that.

He couldn’t stop thinking about Charles on his lap, Charles’s mouth on his. He hadn’t felt anything like that before, not even when he’d kissed people before – and that hadn’t really happened that often. His first real girlfriend had basically been Raven – and it was probably better not to think about how _that_ had worked out right now.

So, was that because he was more interested in men?

He didn’t think it was, necessarily. He’d often looked at women and thought about how beautiful they were and he couldn’t really remember doing that with men.

Except perhaps Charles.

Charles _was_ a handsome man, even now after everything that had happened. And his eyes were that beautiful blue that Hank found rather startling sometimes when they looked at him. And he was _Charles_ and thinking of how he felt about Charles was confusing just because of that.

Perhaps Charles had been so out of it that he wouldn’t actually remember any of this in the morning. It had happened before. Or perhaps he would but would realise the whole thing had been a horrific, embarrassing mistake and would just never mention it.

Or perhaps he would actually think about what Hank had said. And perhaps he would actually still want it. And so Hank needed to decide what he wanted before Charles asked again because … what _did_ he want?

He thought again about Charles on his lap. Charles’s mouth on his. It made his stomach crunch hotly in a very pleasant way.

He wanted more of it.

He swallowed and pushed the thought away. There was no point thinking about it until he saw what Charles wanted to do. And surely Charles _would_ have forgotten? He had clearly been drunk, had to have been _very_ drunk to want to kiss _Hank_ …

Instead of thinking about it any longer, he went to start making breakfast. He didn’t usually make Charles any food if Charles had clearly been drinking a lot – for a start, there was never any guarantee that Charles would wake up at a sensible time. He ate his own breakfast, left some coffee out just in case Charles wanted it and returned to his lab, deciding to try and do something useful to distract his mind.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been working when the door opened and Charles came in. He was carrying a cup of something and had a slightly uncertain expression on his face, as though he wasn’t quite sure Hank would want to see him.

“I thought you might want tea.”

“Thank you,” Hank said automatically, reaching out a hand. As he took the mug, he noticed that Charles’s hair was damp.

Charles had washed.

Hank took a sip of his tea, even though it was far too hot. His mouth had suddenly gone very dry.

“Are you … all right?” Charles asked. He wasn’t quite meeting Hank’s eyes and his smile was wobbly.

“I’m … yes, of course,” Hank said. “Fine.”

“Good. I … good.”

He hadn’t really seen Charles tongue-tied before. Even when Charles had been apologising for doing something appalling while drunk, he’d always kept up his usual composure and clarity. It told Hank one thing; Charles clearly remembered what had passed between them and wasn’t sure what to do about it..

Which meant that it was entirely possibly up to Hank to decide.

He took another gulp of far-too-hot tea, then put the mug down on the bench and took a step closer to Charles. Charles looked at him, a sort of sideways look.

“Look, Hank, I think that I … I said some things last night and I … well, I put you in an awkward position and I shouldn’t have … I presume too much of you, all the time and if you’re angry, you should just say because I – ”

Hank kissed him. He brought his hands up to Charles’s hair, ran his fingers through the damp tangles and shivered as Charles pressed against him, responding eagerly to the embrace. His mouth tasted clean and Hank knew that Charles hadn’t been drinking today.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew this wouldn’t fix anything, not in the long run. Charles would not find himself because he had found Hank.

But this was what Hank wanted. And what Charles wanted. 

And that would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 12dayschristmas


End file.
